The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper

by Phaedra Patrick

  The bracelet sat in the pocket of Arthur’s soggy trousers, on the bedroom floor. He didn’t want to think about the bloody thing. Perhaps he should have flung it out to sea. It belonged in the past now where he wanted to leave it. “I don’t really want to talk about it tonight.”

  Dan opened his mouth to speak but then Bernadette bustled over. She thrust a plate with a slab of chocolate cake on it into Arthur’s hand. “Did Nathan tell you? He made this. What do you think?”

  Arthur dug in his fork and sampled the cake. “It’s very tasty. Your son has a talent. He takes after you.”

  Bernadette beamed and then insisted she was going to get Dan a slice, too, even though he said he didn’t want one.

  Lucy sidled up to Dan. “Have you told him yet?”

  “Told me what?” His two children stood in front of him, both with their lips pursed as if they had bad news for him. “What is it?” he said.

  “Here we are. Lovely cake for us all.” Bernadette reappeared with her arms laden with plates. “Enough for everyone.”

  “Dan?” Arthur said as his son was forced to take a plate.

  “I’ll speak to you tomorrow.”

  “Perhaps we can sleep at yours tonight?” Lucy said.

  Arthur felt his chest swell with happiness. “Of course.”

  “But tomorrow morning,” Lucy continued, “we need a family meeting. Dan has something to tell you.”

  The Heart

  ARTHUR HAD A HANGOVER. It felt as if his brain was banging. The house was still but he could hear strange yet familiar noises. Dan was snoring in his old room. He could tell that Lucy was awake and reading. If he strained his ears he could hear her turning over the pages of a book. He turned on his side to see the empty expanse of mattress beside him. “The kids are back home, Miriam,” he whispered. “We’re still the Peppers. We still all love you.”

  He had forgotten how much cereal they ate and how much space Dan took up at the kitchen table. Dan and Lucy insisted on rustling up his breakfast even though Arthur didn’t really feel like eating. He swallowed two paracetamol with his cup of tea. The three of them ate and laughed. Dan knocked over the milk and Lucy tutted, wiped it up and called him a numpty.

  Arthur looked at his son and caught only glimpses of the young boy with the round face, chocolate button eyes and tufty hair who used to jump up with excitement when The Muppets came on TV. “You said you had something you wanted to tell me,” he prompted.

  Lucy and Dan looked at each other.

  “I told Dan about your travels around the country,” Lucy said.

  “You’re a real adventurer, Dad.”

  “I also told him about the charm bracelet...”

  “I remember Mum showing it to me when I was a kid...” Dan said.

  “She showed it to you?”

  “I remember once when Lucy was at school and I was at home with Mum. I’d got a stomachache and she let me stay off and watch TV. After a while I was so bored. So we went to your bedroom. Mum crouched and got something out of her wardrobe. It was the charm bracelet. She showed me all the charms and she told me a little story about each one. Of course, I’ve always had cloth ears, so I can’t remember any of them. But I played with it all afternoon. Then she put it back and I never saw it again. I asked her on a couple more occasions if I could play with it but she said she had ‘put it away.’ I always remembered it, though. I liked the elephant best. I remember his green stone.”

  “Me, too. He’s a noble beast.” He looked at his son. “So what did you have to tell me?”

  “There’s the story of one charm left to discover?”

  “Yes, the heart.”

  “I bought it,” said Dan.

  Arthur dropped his cup. It smashed on the floor and tea and china spattered everywhere. Lucy went to find a cloth and a dustpan and brush. “What did you say?”

  “I bought the heart charm. Well, Kyle and Marina picked it out. We were in a shop in Sydney. Mum told me that I should make more effort with my gifts to you.”

  “I used to think that you should try harder with gifts to your mum.”

  “Well, this time I did. We walked past a jewelry shop and the trays in the window were lined with gold charms. Marina wanted to stop and look and I remembered Mum’s charm bracelet. I’d totally forgotten but then the memory was so clear. It was as if I was a kid again playing with the tiger, the elephant. I said that Marina could pick a charm and that we’d send it to Grandma in England. She was so excited. She chose the heart straightaway. I didn’t know if Mum still had the bracelet, but it was a nice present, anyway.”

  “I took the bracelet to a jewelry shop in London and the owner said that the heart charm was more modern,” Arthur said. “It wasn’t soldered onto the bracelet properly.”

  “Maybe Mum used your box of tricks to nip it in place herself.”

  “But she didn’t mention it to me. She didn’t show me,” Arthur said.

  “We only sent it a couple of weeks before she died. She might have planned to show you another time...”

  Or perhaps if she had showed me, then I would have asked questions, Arthur thought. I would have asked her the stories behind the charms and it was too late for her to tell me. It would have brought up bad memories of Martin. Maybe the heart charm helped to bring happiness to the bracelet. “That’s probably the case.” He nodded. “Of course she would have told me about it.”

  * * *

  Dan drove Arthur and Lucy up to Whitby in his hire car. It was a sunny but windy day and Arthur had dressed appropriately this time in a padded waterproof jacket and lace-up boots. He had loaned Dan some clothes. His son had forgotten what the British weather could be like.

  They walked through the old town and up the one hundred and ninety-nine steps to the old abbey. Arthur took it steady, stopping to sit on benches en route and look out over the orange-tiled roofs of the houses and B and Bs. Lucy rescued strands of hair from her mouth and Dan flung out his arms and ran into the wind when they reached the top. “Whooo!” he shouted out. “Kyle and Marina would love it up here.”

  “Do you think you might bring them over one day?” Arthur asked tentatively. He hadn’t seen them for a long time.

  “I will do, Dad. I promise. We’ll try to come over each year from now on. I didn’t realize how much Mum’s passing away would affect me... I also want to say that I’m sorry.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “I used to give you a hard time sometimes, when you wanted to read to me, when you were late home from work. I didn’t appreciate how hard it is to be a parent, until I had the kids myself. I was a total pain in the backside.” He turned to his sister. “To you, too, Luce.”

  Arthur shook his head. “No need to apologize, son.”

  “Nobody’s perfect.” Lucy gave Dan’s arm a punch. “And you certainly aren’t.”

  Dan gave a mock, “Ouch,” and laughed.

  They strolled around the graveyard and circled the crumbling abbey and then walked over to the hillside overlooking the sea.

  “Do you remember that time that me and Lucy went to the ice cream van with Mum?” Dan said. “We were playing tag and ran into the road? That big lorry was rumbling toward us, but we hadn’t noticed. You appeared out of nowhere and yanked our arms out of the sockets. The lorry thundered past. You saved our lives. I almost peed with terror.”

  “You remember that?”

  “Yeah. I thought you were like Superman. I told all my friends at school. It was like you had superhuman powers.”

  “You just ran off and had your ice cream.”

  “I think I was in shock. You were my hero.”

  Arthur blushed.

  “This is it.” Lucy stopped. “This was one of Mum’s favorite places. I remember, there’s a rock over there shaped like a
dog’s head.”

  “And one over there shaped like a volcano,” Dan added. “We always sat on that bench and looked out to sea.”

  Memories gradually began to emerge in Arthur’s mind, like friends appearing out of the mist. His curiosity about the stories behind the charms was beginning to fade. They were almost like fairy stories, things that had happened in a time past. He was pleased that his head was becoming full of his own stories again, ones about his wife and children.

  “I remember one day and we were begging you, begging you, to come in the sea,” Lucy said. “And you kept saying that you were happy to stay and read your paper. So me, Mum and Dan went into the sea, and then suddenly you were beside us and laughing and scooping up water and throwing it at us. Mum was wearing that white dress that went see-through in the sun.”

  “I remember,” Arthur said. “But I thought that I stayed on the sand and watched you.”

  “No. You came in,” Dan said. “We nagged you into submission.”

  Arthur thought about how it was possible for memories to shift and change with time. To be forgotten and resumed, to be enhanced or darkened as the mind and mood commanded. He had conjured up emotions, of how Miriam had felt about the people who gave the charms to her. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. But he did know that she had loved him, that Dan and Lucy loved him, that he had lots of reasons to carry on.

  “Come on, Superman.” Dan patted him on the arm. “Shall we head down to the beach for a paddle?”

  “Yes,” Arthur said, and he took both of his children’s hands in his. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Letters Home

  WHEN ARTHUR RETURNED from his outing to Whitby with Dan and Lucy he found a bundle of letters on his doormat. They were bound with a piece of yellowing string. All had been written on a lavender-colored paper. All were open and from the look of them had been read many times, except the top one, which was almost pristine. They were in his wife’s handwriting.

  On top, and sealed, was a manila envelope. He tore it open.

  Dear Mr. Pepper,

  I enclose here some letters sent to me by Miriam many years ago. They are probably more use to you than they are to me.

  Sometimes you hold on to things, not because you want to keep them, but because they are difficult to let go. I hope they answer some of your questions about your wife.

  I would appreciate if you do not contact me again, but I am sorry for you and your family’s loss.

  Sonny Yardley

  “What are those?” Lucy asked as she and Dan tugged off their boots in the hallway.

  “Oh, nothing,” Arthur said lightly. “Just something for me to read later.” He tucked the letters into his pocket. His wife had kept her past secret because that’s what she’d felt the need to do. He had been too curious to let her secret lie. But there were some things that should remain in the past, that his children didn’t need to know about—about Sonny and Martin Yardley.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get inside the house properly and get warm. Does anyone fancy a sausage sandwich with ketchup and a game of Snakes and Ladders?”

  “Yes, please,” Lucy and Dan said in unison.

  * * *

  That night Arthur put on his pajamas and sat on the bed. The bundle of letters sat beside him. He tentatively picked them up. For only the briefest moment he considered not opening them, of letting them be.

  He flicked through them, reading the dates on the postmarks. The one on top was the most recent. It looked as if it could have been mailed just yesterday. His hands shook as he opened the envelope, took out the letter and unfolded it.

  January 1969

  Dearest Sonny,

  This letter is terribly difficult to write. Is it really over two years since I last put pen to paper to you? We used to write so often.

  I do so miss our friendship and think about you often. However I have to accept that you no longer want me to be part of your life. Although this makes me terribly sad I take comfort in that it is what you want.

  Throughout all my life, you and Martin were a constant. You were there for me when I was growing up, then shared in my troubles and travels. It is so hard to believe that Martin is gone. I am so truly sorry for my part in his death. I have tried to contact you so many times to convey my condolences and sorrow.

  I still think of Martin and what might have been. The memories are both sweet and painful. I miss you both so very much.

  After mourning for a long time, I am trying to move forward. And that is why I am writing to you one more time, my friend. I would not want you to hear my news from anyone else.

  I have met a lovely man. His name is Arthur Pepper. We are engaged and will be married in York in May this year.

  He is quiet and kind. He is steady and he loves me. We share a quiet kind of love. The simple things in life now bring me pleasure. My days of searching are over. I no longer have a desire to be anywhere but home. And my home shall be with him.

  I have not told Arthur about Martin and I have decided not to do so. This is no disrespect to your brother’s memory, but rather an effort for me to not live in the past and to take small steps toward the future. I do not want to forget the past, only to move on from it.

  I ask once again if you would like to meet, to talk and remember our friendship. If I do not hear from you, then I know your answer is “no” and I shall leave you be. I hope that your family are well and that you have found some peace.

  Your friend,

  Miriam

  Arthur stayed up until two in the morning reading his wife’s letters to Sonny.

  He finally reread the first letter in which Miriam told Sonny of her love for him.

  After that, he took each letter in turn and tore it into tiny squares. He swept them off the duvet, into his hand, and then wrapped them in a handkerchief ready to deposit in the bin the following day.

  He knew his wife well. They had shared their lives for over forty years. It was time to let her past go.

  Finders Keepers

  Six weeks later

  BEFORE HE ENTERED Jeff’s shop in London, Arthur stood for a while and looked at the gold bracelets, necklaces and rings in the window. What stories they could tell of love and happiness and death. And here they were waiting for new people to buy them and to create new stories.

  He pushed open the door and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

  “Just a second,” Jeff’s gravelly voice called out. He then pushed through the beaded curtain. He removed his eyeglass. “Oh, hello there. It’s...”

  “Arthur.” He held out his hand and Jeff shook it.

  “Yes, of course it is. You came in with Mike and brought that incredible gold bracelet, the one with the charms that I fell in love with. It was your wife’s, wasn’t it?”

  “You have a good memory.”

  “I see a lot of jewelry in my job. Of course I do. I sell the stuff. But that bracelet, well, there was something special about it.”

  Arthur swallowed. “I’ve decided to sell it and thought you might be interested.”

  “You betcha. Can I take another look?”

  Arthur stuck his hand in his backpack and handed over the heart-shaped box. Jeff opened it. “Just beautiful,” he said. “It’s even more magnificent than I remembered.” He picked it out and turned it over in his hands, just as Arthur had done the first time he had found it. “It will be a confident lady who buys this. This won’t be about showing off, or about an investment. She will buy it because she loves the charms and that they have stories to tell. You definitely want to sell?”

  “Yes.”

  “I know a lady in Bayswater who would love this. She’s a film producer, a real bohemian type. This is right up her street.”

  “I’d like it to go to a go
od home.” Arthur heard his own voice waver.

  Jeff rearranged the bracelet back in the heart-shaped box. “Are you sure about this, mate? It’s a big decision.”

  “It has no sentimental value for me. It was hidden away and forgotten for years.”

  “It’s up to you. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve been here for forty years, as was my father before me, so I’m going to be here next week or next month or next year if you want to think about it.”

  Arthur swallowed. He pushed the box with one finger back toward Jeff. “No. I want to sell it, but I do want to keep one of the charms. Would you still be interested if I kept the elephant?”

  “It’s your bracelet. If you want the elephant, you keep it. I’ll just reposition the other charms to fill the gap.”

  “He’s the little fellow that started off my journey.”

  Arthur sat on a stool at the counter as Jeff went into the back of the shop. He pulled a magazine toward him. On the back was a jewelry advertisement for a new kind of charm bracelet. Instead of dangling charms there were beads that fed onto a chain. The advert suggested that they should mark occasions, just as Miriam’s bracelet did. It was funny how some things didn’t really change.

  Arthur pushed it away and surveyed all the gold and silver surrounding him. There were rings that must have been worn for decades and meant so much in people’s lives, then they were sold or given away. But the jewelry would get a new life, go to a new person who would love and use it. He tried to imagine the film producer that Jeff knew. In his head she wore a red silk turban and a flowing paisley dress. He pictured Miriam’s bracelet dangling from her wrist and it looked good.

  “Here he is.” Jeff pressed the elephant in Arthur’s palm. Away from the other charms he looked majestic, as if he was supposed to march alone. Arthur turned the emerald with his finger.

  Jeff handed over a roll of money. “It’s what we discussed. It’s worth that even without the elephant.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Jeff nodded. “Thanks for thinking of me. What have you got planned for today, then? Are you calling in on Mike?”